


Festival of All Saints

by BookWorm77071



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, F/M, Lily and James of color
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 19:35:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19911061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookWorm77071/pseuds/BookWorm77071
Summary: While Tuney and her mum did tell Lily this was a party on Hallowe'en, they neglected to mention that it wasn’t really a Hallowe'en party, and they certainly didn’t say that it wasn’t a costume party. And she's not about to spend her night with a bunch of racist Southerners who don't even appreciate her costume, so she leaves at the first chance she gets.





	Festival of All Saints

**Author's Note:**

> So in October of 2016, I participated in the monthly Jily Challenge on Tumblr, and the theme was Halloween, and I'm Jewish, so I've never actually celebrated, and I'm American so I don't know much about England, and English Halloween is just a total mystery to me so I wrote this instead.

As per tradition on Hallowe'en, Lily is miserable.

She is never in the same place, she always has different plans, and is nearly always with different people, but without fail, Lily manages to be in the worst mood every year on October thirty-first.

Lily has noticed the pattern, of course, and has tried to discover what it is that makes a holiday everybody around her seemed to enjoy so awful. So she keeps a detailed record of nearly all her Hallowe'ens (not including the first four. She doesn’t remember them much, or at all).

So she’s sure that place has nothing to do with it, because she’s been in Cokeworth six times (sixth, eighth, ninth, eleventh, fourteenth, and sixteenth Hallowe'ens), France once (seventh Hallowe'en), Edinburgh once (fifth Hallowe'en), Bath twice (tenth and thirteen Hallowe'ens), Bristol once (twelfth Hallowe'en), Kent once (seventeenth Hallowe'en), and now London twice (her fifteen Hallowe'en and now again for her eighteenth).

And while she’s generally with her family during holidays (but not always–-thirteenth Hallowe'en was spent entirely at her mate Clara’s and sixteenth entirely alone due to an awful case of the flu, for example) for whatever reason, someone is always out all day on this one.

On this eighteenth Hallowe'en of hers, for example, her father was in Cokeworth, working all day and all night in the factory where he was a manager of sorts, and Tuney had dragged their mother to London to meet with her boyfriend’s family, and their mother had dragged Lily.

“Honestly, mum, she doesn’t even want me to be there,” Lily had said to her mother eleven times in the car.

Lily also kept a detailed account of her mothers responses.

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course she does” – first, fifth, and ninth times.

“She’s your sister” – second and seventh times (and Lily’s least favourite, because it didn’t even answer).

“Well, I want you to be there” – third and fourth times.

“Lily. Enough” – sixth, eighth, tenth, and eleventh times. Clearly Mum’s most favourite.

And now Lily sits in the dining hall of some hotel she’s never heard of, in London, a city she doesn’t even like, with people who clearly don’t want her there, in honour of a holiday she doesn’t even celebrate.

The dining hall is decorated with more of a night theme than a Hallowe'en theme. The table cloths are a such a deep shade of blue they look nearly black and they’re embedded with rhinestones to look like the sky. The dinner plates laid out in front of everyone shine silver (food has not yet been served), the LED lights twinkle above, and the chairs have been covered with deep purple cushions.

The table she’s seated at looks lovely, but she can’t stand the people around her. She’s incredibly cross with her mum for bringing her without telling her what to expect, she’s cross with Tuney for being cross with her for no reason, she thinks Vernon’s (Tuney’s boyfriend) repulsive, his sister most definitely kicks puppies, his mother and father keep talking about her as though she isn’t in the room, and his young cousin, bouncing on her mother’s lap isn’t trying even a little to hide the fact that she’s laughing at her.

They’re all laughing at her, but the adults have the decency to pretend they aren’t, at least.

Because while Tuney and her mum did tell her this was a party on Hallowe'en, they neglected to mention that it wasn’t really a Hallowe'en party, and they certainly didn’t say that it wasn’t a costume party.

So now Lily sits at a table with people she doesn’t like in a yellow-and-black striped bumblebee dress, clutching her antennae in her hand. 

“Oh, my,” said Vernon’s mother when they walked in. “Aren’t you…festive.”

“Didn’t you see mum wearing her cocktail dress?” Petunia hissed.

“I thought she was going as a Princess!” Lily had said back under her breath, her face as red as her hair.

At least she isn’t the only one in costume. Vernon’s cousin, the little girl sitting on his father’s sister’s lap, is dressed as a dinosaur.

(“I couldn’t get her to take it off!” Meredith Courter had said laughingly. “Neither could I!” Ruth Evans had joked back. Lily thought she might murder her.)

She is still fuming over her mother’s betrayal when Meredith addresses her for the first time-–“Lily, you’re eighteen, aren’t you?”

“Er, nearly,” Lily says, mumbling. Brilliant. Now everyone’s looking at her. If anyone at the table has forgotten that she came dressed as a literal bumblebee, they know now.

“Do you babysit?“

Lily looks up. She doesn’t want to watch the girl. She certainly doesn’t want to drive from Cokeworth to Surrey, where the Courters and the Dursleys live, to do so. “Sometimes,” she says warily.

“Well, I’d like to stay for the duration of the dinner,” Meredith says, “but I promised Priscilla I’d take her trick-or-treating.” Here she rolls her eyes, and Lily isn’t sure what’s worse: a mother who rolls her eyes at spending time with her child after specifically saying she would, or one who would name her daughter Priscilla. “Would you mind taking her?”

“Oh, er…”

“Not too far away,” Meredith says quickly. “You know, I wouldn’t want you to go a couple blocks over, to…the bad neighbourhoods.” She gives Lily a knowing look.

Lily and her mother exchange a glance and turn to Petunia, who avoids both their gazes.

“It’s no problem,” Lily says. “Come on, Priscilla.” She stands up, eager to leave.

She hates trick-or-treating, and she hates London, but she’s certainly not about to spend her evening at a dinner with a bunch of racist Southerners. Especially not ones who don’t like her bumblebee costume.

Priscilla doesn’t seem to be too upset about leaving her family and takes Lily’s hand. They walk out together, the little girl trailing behind a little.

Has Tuney…not told the Dursleys that they aren’t white? Or does Vernon’s aunt simply not care about offending her?

At any rate, Lily knows exactly where she’s taking this little girl. A few streets over, to one of the biggest neighbourhoods-of-colour in England: Gryffindor.

Populated largely by Black British citizens, Gryffindor was founded centuries ago by an escaped slave from farther North. He built his home in what was the poorest area of London back then, and with the help of people from various backgrounds who heard about him, Godric Gryffindor and his descendants, slowly but surely, over the course of several centuries, built themselves a township within the city that was completely independent of the greater British government.

Of course, two hundred years ago, Parliament realised what was happening and quickly worked to bring down quality of life in Gryffindor by re-routing the sewage system, unnecessarily drafting young people from the area, and, most infamously, giving a man named Lord Phinneas Nigellus free reign over all of it. He managed to run the economy into the ground, and strip Gryffindor’s citizens of their pride in what they had built, and anger enough civilians until they burnt down his manor in Chelsea.

Now, in 2016, Gryffindor was referred to by the majority of England’s population as “the bad neighbourhoods,” but people of colour outside of it generally admired it and the people who lived there. Lily knew she did. In fact, she knew Gryffindor quite well, especially the eastern part. There was a lovely Sepharadi community there, with a beautiful synagogue. Lily’s family hailed from Tunisia and had fled to France a few centuries ago, and to Britian in the Second World War, and as such came to spend their holidays at Congregation Hitachdut whenever they could.

“All right, Priscilla!” Lily says putting her antennae on her head. “What kind of sweets are you hoping to get tonight?”

“Ris,” she says, with a slight lisp.

“Rice?”

“Rissss. Don’t call me Priscilla. Call me Ris.”

Lily laughs. Perhaps spending an evening with a little girl she doesn’t know won’t be bad at all. “Okay, Ris,” she says. “Which sweets, then?”

“Chocolate,” Ris answers immediately. “Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate,” she sings, and starts to skip. “Well, what kind of chocolate?”

“All kinds!”

“A girl after my own heart,” Lily says, laughing again. They make their way through Gryffindor, Lily directing them towards the Jewish quarter–perhaps she can say hello to some people, or snag something she knows will be kosher–before she realises there isn’t any reason to, because no one here will be celebrating Hallowe'en.

“Come on, Ris, I’ll take you around to the next block,” she calls to her, smiling as she watches her waddle-run a few paces ahead.

“But I want this house! It’s pretty!”

Lily looks up. The house is pretty. It’s also enormous. Intimidatingly so…but even from behind the black iron gate, Lily can make out the mezuzah on the door, a sign of God’s presence inside. “Er, I know, but trust me, these people don’t have any sweets for you. Come on, we’ll go this way.”

Ris turns around, her dinosaur tail swinging behind her. She pouts at Lily. "Pretty house,” she says.

“Pretty house residents probably do not celebrate a holiday that originated with Pagans and was later adopted by the Church,” Lily explains, walking towards Ris, who (shockingly enough) doesn’t seem to pay her any mind. She picks her up and her dinosaur hood falls back, revealing blond pigtails.

“Let’s go ask…one time,” she offers, as if in compromise. 

Lily laughs at her diplomacy. “Aren’t you listening, silly girl? They don’t have any candy!“

"Maybe they have one–-puppy!” she shrieks with delight, pointing behind Lily’s head.

She turns, looking at the ground, expecting to see a small dog, when-–quite suddenly-–an enormous black monster leaps up at her.

Lily and Ris scream. The thing is huge, its mouth wide open, baring its fangs and dripping blood. Lily doesn’t even think, she just grips Ris tighter than she’s ever held onto anything in her entire life and runs so fast she doesn’t even register the way. One moment she is facing the creature, the next she is facing a tree, tossing Ris up, and climbing after her.

She also doesn’t register the shouts of someone behind her (now below her) until she is clutching Ris with one hand and the branch she is perched on in another.

“Hey!” the person calls, and Lily realises that they have been shouting for some time now.

Lily looks down. A boy who looks to be around her age is jogging to the tree.

“Hey,” he says again, calmer this time. “I’m so sorry. It’s my dog, it’s his costume, I’m so sorry. It’s–-he’s–-look, he reaches down to the dog, now standing at his side, and takes a set of fake teeth with fake blood out of his mouth.

Lily hears the blood rush in her head. Her grip on Ris loosens slightly, and she feels the girl lower her head onto her chest.

"Oh,” she hears herself say faintly. Oh, God. Her heart is still racing. She was so sure she was going to be attacked by some kind of werewolf, and tells the boy so. He has the audacity to laugh.

“Werewolves don’t exist!”

“Excuse me?” Lily says, offended. “That is…completely besides the point. Your dog looked like one.”

“Well, how would you know?”

“Imagination and logic!”

He laughs again. “Well, I think he got excited to see such colourful costumes,” waving a hand at Lily’s yellow-and-black dress and Ris’ bright purple costume.

“What kind of dog is he anyway?” Lily demands. She isn’t mad at the dog, really, or the boy so much even, but she is mad at the fact that she thought she was going to be eaten alive and still in a tree.

“Oh, he’s a black dog,” the boy says confidently. 

“Black lab?”

“Er, no. Well. Maybe. I don’t know. He’s great, though. He knows how to shake and give a high-five. His name’s Padfoot. Oh, and mine’s James,” he adds, as if he’s just remembered.

“Well, this is Ris,” Lily says, patting the quiet girl on her shoulder, “and I’m Lily.”

“Jump and I’ll catch you.”

“What?”

“Jump,” James repeats. “And I’ll catch you. You know, so you don’t fall.”

“Er–here. Take Ris down first…”

James reaches up manages to get a hold of Ris’ shins, holding them tightly. She looks at Lily with a fearful expression, unwilling to lower herself into the arms of the stranger.

Handsome stranger, Lily realises. Dark brown skin with darker black hair that looks as though it’s been hit by a hurricane. She can’t make out the colour of his eyes in this light, but she can see they’re twinkling at Ris from behind his glasses.

“Come on, dinosaur girl,” he says. “Jump! Like a dinosaur!”

“Dinosaurs don’t jump,” Ris says immediately, with confidence.

“Yes they do, of course they do. Come on and I’ll show you.”

Lily’s eyes dart back and forth between Ris and James, unsure if this will work. Ris seems to be thinking hard, her face screwed up in concentration. After a few seconds, she nods, and jumps off the branch. James lets go of her shins and catches her by her waist, his hands easily encompassing her tiny form. He steps back before she’s completely settled into his arms, and he springs–quite suddenly–a foot into the air. Lily gasps and Ris cries out in joy, clapping her hands and laughing.

“See?” James says, grinning down at her. “Dinosaurs jump!”

“Again!”

“First let me get Lily down,” he says, setting her on the ground. “Come on. Jump.”

“I–-oh, no. No, I can’t.”

“Come on, bumblebee girl. No, wait. Dinosaur girl sounds way better. Er…bumble…bumble…Bumble-ly! Bumble and Lily together!” He looks rather pleased with himself.

“Bumbly?” she asks, raising her eyebrows.

“Yes, it’s lovely, isn’t it?” James says in an admiring sort of voice. “Anyway. Come on. Jump.”

“I can’t. I’ll break my spine. It’s so obvious.” She looks up at a higher branch. 

“What? Lily, it’s like… Like six feet off the ground. You can’t do anything worse than a sprained ankle.”

Lily looks down and sees Ris playing with Padfoot and James looking up at her, hands on his hips. “Hallowe'en is a cursed day for me.”

James laughs. “Don’t be silly, Lily. Oh! Silly-Lily! Better than Bumbly–never mind, never mind. Anyway, we don’t believe in cursed days.”

“Who’s we?” she asks blankly.

“We,” says James in surprise. “You know, us.”

“Us two?”

“Ye–-no. I mean yes, but not just us. Everyone.”

“In the world?”

“In the Tribes.” James gives her a funny look. “I mean…I see you every so often at Hitachdut. For the chagim, mostly.”

So, he recognises her from services on holidays? Lily thinks that’s odd, considering she’s never seen him before. She knows she’d never forget his face.

“I’ve always wondered, by the way, what are you? I hear you and your parents speaking a French dialect I don’t understand. Algerian?”

“Close. Tunisian,” Lily says, forgetting, momentarily, her curse. “But…very close, actually.”

“My mother’s Moroccan,” James says, “so I know some of that French.”

“I think it’s supposed to be similar to Tunisian, though, right?”

“Closer to Algerian, I think. Anyway. Come down."James lifts his arms–-very, very nice arms-–up to her, and Lily feels very awkward about the whole thing. 

"Maybe I should just stay here,” she says, mostly to herself.

James bursts out laughing. “Come on, Bumbly. You can’t stay there forever, can you?”

Lily turns red. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“Jump! Go on, say sh'ma and worst comes to worst, God will catch you.” Then he laughs again.

Lily rolls her eyes, and, still very red in the face, jumps. She thinks if she does crash into the pavement below, at least this handsome half-Moroccan boy will be nice enough to leave the mortifying details of her death out when he delivers her body to her parents–but then he catches her by her legs and quickly pulls her into his arms, bridal style.They look at each other for a moment.

“Er,” James says, cheeks darkening. “Er, yes.” He sets her down, running a hand through his hair and messing it up just as Lily smooths her own. 

“Ladder,” he says suddenly. “Yeah, I definitely…definitely could’ve just brought you a ladder.”

“Right,” Lily says, wondering why she hadn’t thought of that either. “Well. All’s well that ends well, I suppose.”

“Yeah, you’re well? No…broken spine?”

“No! No, not even a vertebra.”

James laughs-–since when does she make people laugh all the time?–and reaches down towards the ground. “Yours, I reckon,” he says, handing her the antennae she hadn’t realised had fallen off her head.

“Thanks,” she says, taking it from him. She twirls it in her hands.

“So…” he says. “Er…no chagim for a while now, huh?”

“Yeah,” Lily agrees. “I mean… Chanukah’s in, what, two months?”

“Yeah, two months.”

“Yeah…”

“Maybe-–maybe you could come, like for something else.” James looks hopeful.

“Yeah,” Lily says, smiling slightly. “Like what?”

“Like…”

Lily purses her lips, suppressing a bigger grin. “Maybe we can go on a date,” she suggests.

“Yes,” James says without missing a beat. “I mean, yeah, sure. I mean? Yes, actually.”

Now Lily laughs. She looks over and sees Ris still giggling with Padfoot. “There’s that Chinese place here,” she says.

“For Christmas!”

“I mean, that’s in two months. That’s when Chanukah is this year.”

“Oh, right. Yeah. Well, how about before then?”

“Mmm…Sunday?”

“Sunday.” James grins. “You asked me out, Bumbly.”

“I did.”

“Good Jewish girl,” he says. “Bringing about salvation.”

“That’s true,” Lily says, remembering the prophecy saying salvation would come at the time when women courted their suitors. “That’s me.”“Well. So. Yes.”

“Yes,” Lily says. “Well, I’ve got to go deliver this girl to her mother.”

“Deliverance!”

“Not like that. Her mum’s racist.”

“Oh. Deliverance into the hands of Nebuchadnezzar, then.”

They laugh. “Sometimes it’s like that,” he says.

“Sometimes,” Lily agrees, “but not always.”

They exchange numbers and as Lily walks back with Ris to the hotel, she thinks, perhaps, this holiday might not be so terrible.

Although she still definitely prefers Purim.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! I'd love a review, if you have the time.  
> Translations:  
> Chagim- Holidays  
> Sh'ma- The first prayer every Jewish person learns, repeated three times a day by observant Jews and traditionally said on one's deathbed  
> Purim- Jewish holiday also known as the Festival of Lots, where people dress up in costumes and trade food with one another, infinitely better than Halloween.


End file.
